Florean Fortescue's Ice cream was nestled among a row of brightly colored shops in Diagon Alley, bustling with streams of visitors every hour of the day.

Early mornings, however, were a quite affair with cloudless indigo hue skies and few stragglers ambling along the cobbled streets.

It was during this ungodly hour that the shop rolled out new flavors of ice-cream for tasting; a secret unbeknownst to many and one offering great delight to those privy. Hermione had been let into this one by Harry; who'd learnt of this during the hours spent under the umbrellas of the shop before the start of their third year in Hogwarts.

She politely thanked the assistant at the counter and shuffled to the the door, biting into her ice-cream.

The taste of chocolate flooded her mouth as she pushed the door and flinched at the biting cold breeze.

The scene was distracting in its beauty; alluring in the way paintings force beholders to pause and admire them.

The twinkling lights of the shops spilt into the streets in a marked contrast to the Sky that resisted any Sun rays from ruining the beauty waiting to be pursued in the solace of darkness. She inhaled the chilly air and nuzzled her freezing nose into her scarf.

Over the years, her visits to Diagon Alley had dwindled; the last time she'd visited, she'd been accosted by well wishers with gratitude that gradually felt underserving enough to suffocate.

The logical part of her mind rationalized the shame to be unfounded; a result of her frustration at her own life choices, guilt over the war and discontentment with her life, but that didn't stop her from repressing the emotions altogether, for another day. Some day.

A movement in one of the tables caught her eye, a shade of blonde glinting in the dim light that she could recognize any day.

Malfoy sat, hands shoved into his pockets, with a girl, leaning into his ice cream at the table, a heavy indigo scarf wrapped around his neck and a smile stretched lazily on his face. Both were illuminated by a glint of light spilling conveniently on them from the shop, as actors in a play.

A few pale strands of hair had slipped from the girls bun as she gushed while waving her hands animatedly in the air, eyes twinkling with laughter.

He - they- looked out of place. Hermione's eyes widened at the girls attire, something akin to sweatpants and coat while Malfoy wore usual robes.

He laughed abruptly then, wrenching her out of her thoughts to pin on him as his sound filled the deserted alley. A laugh crinkling his eyes around the corner, making him appear younger and carefree. A hearty laugh that shook his shoulders and froze her breath.

The traitorous thought rose once again within her, to be the person in front of him evoking that sound. How dare he have someone like that in his life? How dare he deserve it? Why- who was that for her?

It was absurd to find him on a quite morning anywhere near Diagon Alley; a place of hostile rage against former yet pardoned death eaters. Were only early mornings, hidden from the world, left for him despite his work in the Ministry as well?

Hermione nuzzled her nose into the warmth of her scarf and walked out of the porch into the alley, disappointment spreading its coils across her chest.

A dangerous thought tucked guilty in the back of her mind crawled forward tearing her bleak resistance;

Who was the girl?


Sweat trickled down her face to pool in the small of her back. The humid air in the library was suffocating in its oppressing intensity. Hermione wiped her hand across her forehead, wiping the drops of sweat lining her fingers against the ragged cloth on the table.

"Hermione? Are we done?", Daniels long suffering sigh snapped her out of her concentration as the others snickered lightly.

She bit her lip, continuing to write down in her book, pressing the nib of her quill into the cramped paper, blotting it. Daniel and two other girls, Ilia and Elda, sat spread around the table, all hunched over stacks of paper, pretending to work on a proposal due. They worked alongside in her department, junior to her by two years, all vying for a position in the law enforcement department that was notorious for its exclusivity; selecting candidates after examining their performance few years after their service in other departments in the ministry.

Her reputation from the war had dulled into one of an overbearing perfectionist which she battled constantly, to her bafflement. It was stifling to work amongst people without an ounce of appreciation for her work, pushing her around with their games and politics, reducing her to just another employee in the ministry. Harry, she knew, struggled with this as well; it was one of their favorite topics to bemoan on drunken nights as others ruefully shook their heads at their naivety. However, his job saved him well by assigning days of fieldwork away from calculating eyes of young Ministers.

What she wouldn't give to have him beside her right now.

"If you could write the suggestions, we'll be done soon", she said patiently, eyes roving over her words.

Daniel laughed out aloud, "If I write then how would we win this one, eh?" prompting everyone into guffaws.

Hermione gripped her pen tightly, pulling all her thoughts to focus on the black nib of her pen. The irritation coursing through her threatened to rip the paper in her hands apart. She breathed jerkily.

"He's here, Ilia", Elda's suggestive voice made her glance up. Elda leant back against her chair, feet propped up on the table, smiling innocently at Ilia. "Oh shut it!" Ilia remarked exasperatedly but her gaze drifted covertly over to their right on a tall figure making over to the shelves on their left.

Her mind blanked out momentarily, slowly piecing everything together. Malfoy?

She let her gaze linger on him along with others, watching as he made his way through the tables with refined elegance, never breaking his stride as the librarians parted to make way. His long pale fingers reached up to open the clasp of one of the olden shelves as other grazed the spine of the books delicately. Hermione glanced back at her paper sharply.

"He's good isn't he?" Elda winked at Simon who rolled his eyes.

"Don't tell me Ilia's taken with him", Simon sighed dramatically, dropping his book on the table, leaning against the table.

"I'm not!"

"Oh shove off", Elda whispered deviously. She leant towards Simon and Hermione, tilting her chair precariously on one leg.

"She's been trying to catch his eye since ages"

Simon huffed a laugh before asking, "Aren't you younger than him?"

Ilia, now focused on her work to Hermione's satisfaction, looked up to glare at him.

"By two years only!" She paused, "And I'm not alone, Elda", she rolled her eyes. "There are others and he barely knows of me so shut it", she bit out angrily.

"Ah, but my dear, only you hold the hope of getting closer to him, don't you?" Elda replied

Hermione's gaze wandered to him discreetly.

He now sat on the table reading a heavy book, a finger trailing the words his eyes raced over before turning the page. Years of refinement spilling through each movement. Of course they admired him now. After he'd worked to distance himself from his notorious past.

She'd barely seen him since their last encounter. Formal greetings in lifts, polite nods across the hallways were all she got though her eyes always lingered on his retreating back; hoping for a better encounter. She'd asked around more about him but she'd received a similar version of him from almost everyone; another shade of his Death Eater self but more calculated and emotionless. It was hard to place that man with the one she'd met in the ice-cream shop a few days back; a young boy with laughs to light up the mornings.

Simon's voice broke her thoughts, "As much as I'd like to fawn over Ilia's tragic tale, we have to go." He pushed his hands off the table to stand straight.

"Hermione, you're done with it all right?"

The others began standing groggily, stretching the cramped muscles slowly. Her bewildered gaze ran over them before landing at Simon.

"Simon..we still have the regulators evidence left." Her gaze flashed to Daniel. "Daniel's working on the last bit."

Daniel turned to face her abruptly. He laughed sheepishly looking at the others, "Hermione, I- well of course, but we've done that already. I sent that to you"

"And I sent it back with some changes"

"That's- you're being too critical, Hermione", he pleaded. The others stood around the table awkwardly eyeing their exchange.

"I'm sorry, Daniel", she said with forced patience, the familiar helplessness clawing up her throat, "but we can't do without a well-formed one. We'll be shot down immediately."

She leant back against her chair tiredly, bracing herself for the routine about to unfold before her eyes.

"It's good though, oh Ilia you read it, didn't you?", Daniel's tone laced with exasperation as he rounded on Ilia.

Ilia glanced around nervously.

"I mean, it's not bad but it isn't great either Daniel", she replied flatly.

Simon had taken a step back to lean against the cupboard, head bowed and unwilling to interfere again.

"It's bloody good enough as it is, Ilia. What we're doing right now is extra. Don't act like fools.", his tone now mocking, challenging them.

Elda exhaled loudly. "Fine, let's just see what happens, alright? No need to make a big deal."

They shared a glance laden with the same emotion, tolerance. Towards her.

She really, truly didn't have a problem with them. But it was in these moments when she knew they would side together and leave her feeling delusional. How they would later gather the credit for her work unbeknownst known to her in lunches with department heads while she slogged here. Her mind raced to lay the moments that would play out clearly in her mind. How Daniel's vicious streak would slip with a insidious remark that would strike its mark. How others would laugh sheepishly as her heart would rip slowly at the underlying truth in his words.

Where would words leave her in those moments? Who dealt him the hand to use the words to slice her this way?

It was routine they danced over every few days over the past few years, how they'd leave her here again smiling through their teeth, hands empty because they knew she'd trail behind with proposal in hand. How the girls would take her out for drinks later, cursing Daniel all the while playing games that swept over her head.

She inhaled slowly, forcing her mind to pause. "This proposal's important, guys. I- I've done most of it", she forced her tongue to roll off the words,

"I wouldn't have minded doing this but I still have the phase three to finish. This proposal's important."

"I-", she flinched at her mistake, "we, have worked hard on this for the past three months. Let's get this done."

Her eyes landed on Daniel to see his jaw clench and eyes harden.

"Of course Hermione", he bit out. He paused as Hermione's mind braced her for the words,

"You've done all the work. The work- the drafts we send of course have to be shot down by you. We- I tried", he accused.

"And what's with the summary? Do we need it?" He looked at the others agitatedly.

Elda and Ilia glanced away to avoid catching her eye, shaking their head demurely.

"I mean, is it really that important Hermione? Lets chuck it and get this over with. We'll go for drinks later?", Ilia smiled encouragingly at her. They didn't get it, did they? How important all this was to the department? How could they not realize Kruger, who sat to nitpick faults to shoot down their proposals, would gladly take a badly formed summary to refuse them.

Another three months down the drain.

Fight or freeze, the choice sprang again.

Her jaw clenched as she smiled slightly, "No it isn't. I'll be there in a few. Go ahead"

Daniels eyes crinkled in false understanding and they shuffled out, leaving her to quickly pluck another white parchment from her bag and begin writing.

She tried to gather all her thoughts in her sleep deprived mind, raking her hand through her hair. Russia and Britain, magical creatures discussion, transfer of creatures, funding..she was sure she was missing out on something.

She heard their footsteps receding as she pressed her palms to her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Her eyes prickled and she angrily shot down the tears threatening to erupt. This was common, this was routine. There was no need to feel hurt over something as insignificant as their opinions.

"Bad day again, Granger?" The amused tone snapped her head as she saw Malfoy drag a chair and sit in front of her.

She blushed furiously in anger, picking up her pace.

She didn't want him to see her like this, defeated, hurt and on the verge of tears. Over work, the horror.

Her jaw clenched as she began gathering her books quickly, thinking of ways to escape quickly.

"Granger", he sighed. Almost all her books were in her back. Grab the papers and run. She began to mentally jot down the work in front of her; ten minutes lunch in cafeteria, meeting Zalk to brief before the meeting —

"You can't win everyone."

"Huh?" Her eyebrows shot up. He was treading territory she didn't allow even herself to venture.

"This group could never muster a scrap of respect for you. You need to push them", his gaze remained hard on her, jaw clenched.

This. This was what she ran from. The opinions on her which she knew would run similar to her own.

"I didn't ask for your opinion, Malfoy" she snapped irritably, wishing she sounded fiercer.

"It's not an opinion, it's advice", he spoke slowly, as if speaking to a child.

"Did I ask for it?"

"Out of five proposals over the past six months, only one has passed, Granger. For once in your life, think", his tone turned sharp and cutting.

His jaw clenched and she caught a glimpse of the Malfoy she remembered back at school, answering questions in class with an air of mocking certainty.

She flushed embarrassingly. Had he looked up her record?

"Shut up", she replied irritably. And points for creativity to Granger.

How did he maintain his reputation of being ruthless while she was stuck with snickering glances? What did he do differently?

And why was Ilia interested in him?

Her papers were in her hand and she turned to leave.

"Ah, Malfoy", a voice, Kruger's voice, made her stop.

"Sir", Malfoy stood from his chair to face him, standing two inches taller than his superior, his mask falling back into place.

Her eyes narrowed in confusion at the disinterest evident on his face. The root of the rumors regarding his reputation had clearly met their mark.

Did he allow only her to see him this way? Allow only her to witness any emotion while feigning bored arrogance for others?

Kruger's eyes took her in briefly, noting her appearance before flicking back to Malfoy, dismissing her.

"The loss you just had us endure is enough for us to skin your hide", his anger bled into his voice turning it harsher.

Her heart thumped in her chest unexpectedly. For Malfoy?

Malfoy's face remained blank, no reaction in those place gray eyes. The man had the nerve to look slightly bored.

Kruger slapped a hand on the table violently and Hermione stepped back instinctively. Malfoy's pale gaze flicked to her before resting once again on Kruger, an emotion of tolerance radiating from his body.

"You lost us out to a ninety thousand Galleons, you runt."

Hermione's eyes widened at his language and glanced at Malfoy who hadn't even blinked.

"If you're talking about the Investment into the mines" he began but was cut off.

"Yes, I'm bloody talking about the mines. You", Kruger spat, "forced us to put money there and the dip in the market is something I guess that mind didn't calculate, did it?", he finished menacingly.

Hermione held her breath as Malfoy began again, staring at Kruger dispassionately.

"Everyone was investing it that's why the price rose but its exchanging hands so its experiencing a dip. Anyone who weathers this will get a fortune. Don't let your short mindedness ruin the potential here."

Hermione gasped softly. Kruger clenched his hands and looked like he was short of punching Malfoy.

"We're selling. You're no longer part of investment, Robert will take your place." He turned and pinned Hermione with his heavy gaze, eyes darting between her and Malfoy for a moment before walking away.

Malfoy still stood rigidly, eyes pinned onto Kruger's back. Hermione felt a twinge of sympathy for him and nervously exhaled.

Her fingers felt stiff from clutching the wooden back of the chair tightly.

He looked unapproachable and she'd learnt enough to understand one wrong step could leave her bearing the brunt of his sharp words. But the opportunity of seeing him just as vulnerable couldn't be missed.

"Did you screw up?', she asked flatly. He blinked, becoming aware of her presence as he turned to face her.

"I didn't, they will", jutting his jaw in the direction that Kruger had walked out. Vulnerable, my ass.

Her brain rushed to understand of his words till a moment later, it all fell into place.

"You..you've invested your personal funds separately in this, haven't you?"

He nodded, sharp eyes noting every twitch.

"You're not going to pull out?"

A corner of his lips titled to form a small smirk.

"No, Granger", his said, eyes blank a moment before now burning. She couldn't tear her gaze from his face, watching the annoyance that was nonexistent moments before blaze in his eyes. She shivered at the realization that he'd never cared for the Ministry. Her heart raged at his duplicity; an incredible loss that would be suffered by the Ministry while the man in front of her would rise higher. Did he not care for his work? Like her?

A man with no loyalties.

"Why?", her voice sounded small to her ears.

"I don't care. Not enough.", he paused. "This isn't my entire life, Granger. It shouldn't be yours either."

It was impossible to tear her gaze from him, eyes widening as her heart hammered violently inside her chest.

He slowly picked up his books and walked away, leaving her wondering, yet again, about herself.


Authors Note: Thank you to the people who commented, I really really appreciate it:) Hope you like this and please do let me know if you do/don't or have any suggestions?